|
100% Free, No Credit Cards or 'Free Signups' required, New Content Daily! Over 700 Stories and Thousands of Free Video and Image Galleries |
|
|
Chapter 1
Sarah cruised to a stop in the parking lot. The gravel crunched underneath the tires of her car. It was a long drive from San Bernardino to Fall River Massachusetts, and 'Jacob's Bluff' Nevada was not on any of her maps. She touched the screen of her navigational computer. Lines streaked across it, and then it went black. "Nnnnoooo," she lamented.
Across the parking lot, she surveyed a diner. Once upon a time, the stainless steel restaurants served the masses along every highway and interstate road. Now it was a dinosaur left over from a bygone era.
She grabbed her purse from off the seat and exited her car. Upon standing, she picked at her black silk panties through her jeans. They formed a wedgy between her butt cheeks. At 19, she was still at that age when girls dressed to impress complete strangers. The ravages of age and apathy belonged to her mother's generation.
Despite what one might think, the desert can be quite cool during the winter. She buttoned her denim jacket and crossed her arms. The sunlight mixed with a cool breeze to form an odd mixture of hot and cold. The gusty wind blew her long brown tresses across her face. She brushed them behind her right ear and shivered.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a cluster of motorcycles. A red flag popped up in her brain. However, her bladder was full and demanded attention. She sprung onto the sidewalk, and threw open the glass door. A bell chimed and heralded her entrance.
She paused in the doorway and surveyed the interior. It was what one might expect, except for the women in leather. They occupied the booths to her right and left. A few lingered on stools at the counter.
Although none of the women looked directly at her, she could feel their attention focused on her. She hurried past them and into the ladies restroom. Unlike men who can pee standing, an attribute she greatly envied at this moment, she had to squat. She unhitched her jeans and tugged them down along with her panties. Her bottom hovered above the toilet seat, not wishing to touch it.
After she was through, she cleaned up with a wetnap and tugged up her clothes. Now it is a matter of etiquette to make a purchase when using the facilities. She took a five dollar bill from her purse, intent on purchasing a diet soda.
When she exited the restroom, she heard what she assumed to be thunder. A Harley rumbled up in front of the diner. Its throaty engine rattled the plate glass windows. What she saw riding on the bike stole away her breath.
"Hey Jazz, Dakota is here," one of the women called out.
A woman flipped down the kickstand with the heel of her boot. Her black leather miniskirt was hiked up the crease of her thighs. This flashed the gusset of her black satin panties. She zipped down and removed a leather jacket. After tossing it across the handlebars of her bike, she stretched her arms. A leather corset thrust her breasts out like a pair of bulging melons. They were round like cannon balls, heavy, and intimidating. Green ivy and blood red rose tattoos wove around her arms in a wanton display of sexual power.
Dakota was intimidating to be sure. However, it was the rider behind her that sapped Sarah's strength. The woman was a study in latex and leather. Her round breasts and bubble ass cheeks gleamed like the fender of a new Ford. A merciless waist cincher compressed her abdomen down to a dramatic hourglass shape. Her knees were bent and wide straps bound her calves to her thighs. Not even her head or extremities were spared. Harsh ballet boots froze her feet into a pair of painful points. A monosleeve squeezed her arms behind her, further thrusting out her chest. Two layers of suffocating latex and an outer layer of black kid-leather covered her head. As if this was not enough, a web of leather straps crisscrossed her head, and a posture collar froze it in place. Only a single ponytail of blonde hair escaped this fetish prison. The wind whipped the honey golden locks about in the air behind her head.
Dakota swung her leg over the bike and stood to her feet. Another stretch thrust out her breasts and arched her back. She turned around and attended to the girl bound to the motorcycle. It was not in the way one might think. A white set of wires emerged from the crotch zipper just above the girl's rubber ass cheeks. Dakota traced down the wires and into the left saddle bag. She pulled out a rectangular control. Her thumb slid up a switch. The girl's rubber ass cheeks flashed as they clenched. Her inner thighs began to quiver and between her legs, rubber wrapped tight around her sex. The girl's breasts began to heave in tiny, quick gasps. Despite the neck corset, her head managed to move and her nostril flare as she snorted in gasps.
It was a good thing Sarah just finished using the toilet otherwise she might have wet herself. A shiver ran up her spine, and thumps of her heart seemed to be in her throat. She swallowed and drew in a tremulous breath.
"Ummnnn," a woman squealed. She looked to her right just in time to see the snap of a crotch strap. One girl in rubber was bent over behind the countertop. She was face down with her bottom thrust up into the air. The crotch strap divided her ass cheeks into a pair of rubber balls. The terrified girl looked up at Sarah. A leather panel gag already crushed her lips and fused her jaw. Her blonde mane was gathered into a ponytail. A biker seated at the bar stretched out a latex hood before the girl's face. She squealed in terror and shook her head as the biker stretched the latex over her face. Her blue eyes, open wide as saucers, were plunged into darkness. Earplugs and eye-pads insure that she would remain in a midnight of silence. It only took seconds and the hood covered her head. Her blonde ponytail arched high in the air.
Two more hoods joined the first the second hood having long, internal nostril tubes. The last hood was laced tight, stretching leather smooth and shiny over the girl's face. Like a calf roping contest, her knees were bent and calves fused to her thighs. She bucked as the last bit of slack was removed from her crotch strap.
On the floor, Sarah spied a telltale shred of blue. It belonged to a waitress uniform. Spilt dishes lay scattered about the floor in shattered fragments. A pair of bikers dragged the writhing girl from off the countertop. They carried her out the door and over to a bike. They forced the fat seat between her thighs and strapped her down to a sissy bar. In just a few minutes, she was fused to the bike, immobilized. A biker plugged the power cord for an eight inch butt-plug and monster dildo into a battery. She then activated a control. The girl's ass cheeks clenched and thighs quivered. Even her rubber breasts began to shudder. Her breathing became labored and irregular. A biker patted her rubber ass cheeks and laughed.
Sarah bowed her head and fixed her gaze at the floor. Quick step, she hurried to the door. A leg shot out and blocked her path. It wore a boot, had bare thighs, and had a creased rubber miniskirt. Sarah froze and chewed on her lower lip. "Where you going sweet thing?" Dakota asked.
Sarah crossed her arms over her breasts and shivered. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She took a step back and turned toward the bathrooms. Several bikers blocked her path.
Dakota strutted over and stood close to Sarah. She reached out and grasped the fly to Sarah's jean zipper. As if in slow motion, she zipped it down and unhooked the button. She pealed down the waistband, revealing Sarah's black silk panties. Dakota reached between Sarah's legs and rubbed her silk panty gusset. "Hmm, very nice ... I'll take it to go." A laugh broke out from the other girls.
"Please," she both asked and begged.
Dakota slid the purse down Sarah's arm and tossed it onto the countertop. She pulled Sarah's crossed arms down to her sides and slid down her denim jacket. It piled on the floor at her feet. One agonizing button at a time, she unbuttoned Sarah's sky blue silk blouse. It joined the jacket on the floor.
"Very nice," Dakota purred. Still wrapped in a black satin, underwire bra she palmed Sarah's breasts like a pair of ripe melons and squeezed them. "All natural too," she observed. "What are you sweetie, a 'DD'?"
Sarah did not attempt to answer. She heard a flop of material and clack of metal to her right. On the countertop, she saw draped rubber garments and a leather waist cincher.
"Now turn around like a good girl," Dakota said, turning Sarah around by her shoulders. Pressure between Sarah's shoulder blades compelled the girl to bend over the countertop. Sarah rested her elbows on the hard counter, her breast hung down like ripe fruit. Dakota hooked her thumbs underneath the waistband of Sarah's panties. She pealed them down and a pair of tanned ass cheeks came into view.
A butt-plug, dildo, and lubricant rattled onto the countertop. She saw Dakota's hand reach out and picked up the KY-lubricant. A few seconds later, she felt the cold oil smear between her ass cheeks and a finger probe through her puckering anus.
"No please," she whimpered. However, Dakota picked up the plug to Sarah's left. She felt the bulbous tip nestle into her tight ass crevice and pressed ominously against her bud. "Oh god," she groaned as it pushed into her. Her anus began to spasm shooting pain through her. The cone shaped invader continued to push. She gripped the countertop with white knuckled intensity. Her beautiful face grimaced in agony.
"That's it, take it up the ass," Dakota purred.
"Too big," Sarah groaned at the widest girth. The knob slid through her stretched ring of flesh and down to the smaller ring. The retaining flap was flexible and folded between her ass cheeks like a big round circle.
Sarah sucked in gasped and held on for dear life. The gloved hand picked up a forearm size dildo. She felt the tips work between her labia. With a single thrust, it plunged deep into her pelvis. "Oh god," she groaned at the impaling log lodged deep inside her body. The wedge shaped hilt moved between her labia. The ribbon lips slipped into slots that traced around the perimeter.
Dakota stripped off Sarah sneakers and then her jeans. Her panties were wadded up into a ball and poised at her lips. "Open!" Dakota ordered. When Sarah faltered, a sharp smack to her ass forced a yelp from Sarah. "I said, 'OPEN'!" Sarah parted her lips and black silk was stuffed into her mouth.
Another biker wrapped a panel gag around Sarah's face. Her head jerked as the straps dug into her flesh and fused her jaw, clenching her teeth. She snorted in gasps as latex booties covered her feet and then the catsuit worked up her legs. Tug and snap, the elastic garment swallowed her. Once around her waist, her bra was stripped and arms forced into latex sleeves. Her hands slipped into a pair of one-piece mittens, but they balled Sarah's hands into a pair of tiny fists, unmovable. A biker worked a pair of conical nipple vibrators underneath the garment. When they covered Sarah's areolas, the back zipper was drawn up and closed.
A waist cincher wrapped around her. "Umph," she grunted as the cincher compressed her waist. When she started to thrash her arms about a biker seized her wrists and held them. She closed her eyes and let out muffled moans as the cincher constricted and shaped her waist into a dramatic hourglass. The ends met and fused with a popping snap. A crotch strap sunk between her ass cheeks until she feared it might cut her in two. She could feel her ass cheeks forming into a pair of round rubber balls.
Sarah danced atop ballet boots. Her arms were drawn back into the monosleeve tube. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut. Her shoulders were drawn back thrusting out her chest. She snorted in shallow gasps as the laces were tied.
When she opened her eyes, she saw a pair of girls entering the resturant staring back at her. Where they had come from, she did not know. The last thing she saw was the look of sheer terror upon their faces. Stifling latex covered her face and plugs filled her ears. A second and then third hood covered her face. Over top of the hoods a head harness and neck corset was locked in place. Her knees were bent and legs doubled over. Wide straps coiled around her doubled up legs and cinched down tight.
When she was hoisted into the air, she began to squeal and thrash. However, it was far too late for resistance. A wide seat parted her thighs and focused her weight on her crotch. Straps crisscrossed her chest, wrapped around her waist, and pinned her thighs to the motorcycle.
A sudden cacophony of hums vibrated her pelvis and breasts. She clenched her impaled ass cheeks and squirmed. The first orgasm came quick but never stopped. It just kept going and going.
( link opens in new window )
Locked in her rubber prison, she felt the heat of the sun and cool of the air. However, her mind was focused on the never ending orgasm. She squeezed the seat with her thighs and wriggled. The bonds, however, held her tight.
A while later she felt the motorcycle move. A woman sat between her spread thighs and patted her right thigh. Adding to the chaos in her crotch, the bike began to vibrate. She launched forward, riding through the darkness upon the iron horse. Her brunette ponytail whipped in the air behind her head.
She had no way of knowing it, but stopping at the restaurant was the last decision she would ever make. Some decisions cannot be undone and change the course of a life. She rode behind her new Mistress, destined for a life as a lesbian sex slave. A tattoo on her right ass cheek and ownership lay ahead on the road. Bondage sex videos, lesbian escort services, and sexual debauchery were in store for her. At the moment, all she could think of was the orgasm between her thighs.
Chapter 2 (added: 08/15/2010)
A grid of narrow alleys formed a checkerboard pattern of warehouses. They loomed like fossils of a bygone industrial age. Their red brick faces were worn and windows high above broken. Rough sheets of plywood covered the gaping holes, and they, in turn, were weathered gray from too many winters. The wind gusted between the buildings and swept discarded papers through the alley. A blue jay landed on the roof 5 stories above the street. In its beak it held a twig. It hopped to the edge of the roof and listened. The deep throttle of motorcycles echoed off the stone walls like a stampede. The bird dropped the twig and flew away.
The pack of motorcycles made a left and entered the alley. Their throaty roar created a near deafening cacophony. Most men dream about meeting such a band of seductresses. However, these riders were 'The Valkyries', and such encounters were short and unpleasant.
Upon closer observation, one would have seen the passengers on the back of each motorcycle. They were covered head to toe in latex and leather. Straps held these involuntary passengers in place.
At their approach, a motor activated. A dull gray garage door began to rise. It rattled open with noisy complaint and appeared like a gaping maw. The riders entered a cavernous warehouse and cruised to a stop.
Red brick walls thrust 5 stories into the air. Black steel girders formed parallel tracks and supported the vast, flat roof. Overhead lights blinked in recognition of their arrival and then activated. Beams of cool bluish light lit up the chipped red floor.
Dakota stood to her feet and stretched. She soothed her aching muscles and then stepped over the bike. It had been a long ride, but they were home. She surveyed her passenger and smirked. Her mind drifted back in time to the thrill of the capture.
Angie, her latest acquisition, rode a bicycle alone on a winding mountain road. Brilliant sunlight penetrated the thick canopy of trees. If flashed off the black Lycra spandex shorts cleaving to Angie's ass cheeks. They way they undulated as she pumped the pedals pricked Dakota's id. Her tight blue jersey clung to her lean frame and molded around her grapefruit size cleavage. A flaxen ponytail emerged out the back of her helmet and whipped about in the air.
Dakota eased off the accelerator and followed at a comfortable distance. She watched Angie cruise into a small state park. The girl came to a rest next to a pair of stark cinderblock buildings. She jogged into the lady's restroom and disappeared from sight. Dakota dismounted her bike and turned off the ignition. From off the back, she retrieved a small duffle bag.
Struggles and panicked cries echoed out of the block building. They were soon replaced by muffled mews and groans. A short while later Dakota emerged leading her prize. Angie minced behind her. She danced along atop a pair of thigh high ballet boots. It appeared as though the girl were dipped in glossy black latex. Her entire body was covered. A cruel corset compressed her abdomen into a dramatic hourglass shape, and a thin crotch strap bisected her rubber covered vagina. It also cleaved the rubber deep between her ass cheeks, forming them into a pair of glossy round globes. The girl's arms were bound behind her back in a reverse prayer. She was flexible from hours of yoga so why not use it? This drew back her shoulders and thrust out her rubber covered breasts. Multi-tiered silver chains swung from ornate silver, piercing nipple shields.
The leash clasped in Dakota's hand arced down and up between the girl's legs. It clipped to a short, silver clit chain. The slightest tug sent the girl scurrying to follow.
The girl looked about in vain. Layers of latex hoods covered her face. Where her lips should have been one saw only a smooth, unblemished surface. A mask gag sealed a pair of Dakota's black satin panties in Angie's mouth.
Dakota dumped the girl's clothes in a green trash can. After dousing them with lighter fluid, she set them ablaze. The bike she left for the ubiquitous thieves that permeated Southern California. Liberal politicians, a squeamish public, and weak laws created a near epidemic crime wave.
A tiny mew drew Dakota back to the moment. The pinioned the girl flared her nostrils and snorted in a gasps. Her breasts began to heave and nipple chain swayed. An audible 'mmmnnn' escaped her gag as yet another orgasm gripped her. Dakota reached out with her right hand. It glided down the front of the corset and traveled over the horizontal ripples of the steel boning. Her fingertips slid over the slick latex cleaving to Angie's pelvis. They traveled down to the girl's rubber vaginal lips. They were cleaved in twain by a narrow strap so tight it reminded one of a guitar string. At the slightest touch, the girl snorted in quick gasps and let out frantic mews. Dakota looped her pinky fingernail through the ring of a clit chain and gave it a slight tug. The girl's taut inner thighs began to quiver and breasts rose up with a held gasp. The girl groaned as if giving birth and fought against her bonds.
Dakota's hand slid around to the girl's latex covered ass cheeks. They vibrated like the head of an orbital sander. She gave them a squeeze and dug in her fingernails.
The fun was over and the hard work began. One by one she released leather straps. She released the straps that bound Angie's legs. The girl extended her right leg and then her left. Latex and ballet boots sculpted them into shapely elegance. With Dakota's assistance, Angie stood upon very shaky legs.
To Dakota's right Jazz also attended her rider. Sarah snorted in shallow gasps. A throbbing ache once again vexed her sex. Tension gripped her entire body. She was exhausted, but her body was fused to the bike. "Mmmnn wwwnnnn," she groaned, but barely a whisper escaped her hoods and gag. It came again, the agony, the ecstasy, and the sexual torment. Her thighs quivered and body shuddered. However, the bonds held her fast.
Jazz ran her hand over her latest prize. It glided over Sarah's glossy latex breasts. They were perfect teardrops, large and firm. It glided over Sarah's stomach and between her legs. The girl's crotch burned like an iron and vibrated. Her hand slid around the slick material to Sarah's ass cheeks. They were divided, round, and gleamed. She gave a cheek a squeeze and felt the powerful butt plug vibrate Sarah's ass. Jazz smirked. It was probably the first time that little miss cheerleader's ass had ever been full.
The savage vibrations offered Sarah little rest. Once again another orgasm in a countless chain began to build. To her shock it began to lessen. She snorted in several shallow gasps in celebration. Various straps began to slacken, and her body broke free from the motorcycle. However, it was the release of her ankles from her thighs that brought the most relief. She stretched out her leg and touched the ground. When her left leg was also set free, she hoped her ordeal was over with.
A hand grabbed her bound arms and helped her stand. Jazz supported the girl for a moment not out of kindness but necessity. Sarah's legs wobbled like Jell-O atop the pointed ballet boots. When the girl found her balance, Jazz knelt and clipped a hobble chain to Sarah's ankles and another to her knees.
Pain shot from Sarah's toes and cut through her legs like a hot knife. She took a few pensive steps and felt the restriction of the hobble chain. A sharp tug at her clit wrenched out a stifled yelp. She minced along as fast as she could.
Jazz grasped Sarah's shoulders and guided her behind Angie. She then clipped a short silver chain to Sarah's clit chain. She looped it up between Angie's thighs and clipped to Angie's clit chain. 8 girls formed two straight lines of 4. They rode over a thousand miles over the south west, but the haul was good. All of the girls were fit, beautiful, and young.
Dakota and Jazz gave their leashes a slight tug. Angie minced forward, restricted by a pair of ankle cuffs and hobble chains. She, in turn, tugged on Sarah's clit chain. Sarah danced forward tugging on the girl behind her until all were in motion. The slave coffles crossed the dingy red floor and toward a heavy metal door. It reminded one of a vault. If the girls had seen it, they would have been terrified. It appeared so final and implacable.
Once upon a time, this particular warehouse stored valuable commodities. The door weighted a hundred tons, and the walls were 3 meters thick. Steel and concrete insured that no one entered without permission. Before the computer age, Hollywood props and sets were kept for future eventualities. After that came to an end, it was used to store valuable antique furnishings and artwork. Now the Valkyries adapted it to their particular needs.
There are 2 general categories of kidnappers. The first kind was men with baited breath. They lurked in basements with their victims tied to chairs. Either by phone call or mail they extorted ransom from anxious family members. In the computer age, this was futile. All communication was traced and money tracked. Unless one wishes to set up shop in a third-world country, this was out of the question.
The second set was of a new age. There would be no clandestine meetings or proof of life. They had other ends in mind. Cameras overhead, before, behind, and at floor level recorded the slow procession. Harsh lights illuminated the glossy latex smothered women. The entire procession was recorded by a nexus of cameras with vivid detail. Far down below in a sealed room, a media server ran a media program. It edited, spliced, and streamed the entire affair over the internet.
The girls turned this way and that until they were all turned around. Hand grabbed Sarah's shoulders and spun her around. Dakota positioned Sarah's feet on either side of a pulley mounted to the concrete floor. She grabbed the end of a chain, fed it through the pulley, and drew it up between Sarah's legs. At a slight tug of the clit chain Sarah squatted down a bit. Dakota clipped the hook to Sarah's clit chain.
Dakota then drew up the other end of the chain. She grabbed one of Sarah's nipple shields and forced the girl to bend over at the hips. She then clipped the Y-chain to Sarah's breasts.
If Sarah tried to straighten her legs, the chain drew her breasts down toward the floor. This left Sarah bent over at the hips with her upper body parallel to the floor. If she tried to stand, the clit chain drew down her hips to an uncomfortable squat. Either way this left her bottom thrust out in the air. The girl waited, alternating between straight legs and raised upper body.
A machine located behind Sarah activated, and a fiberglass switch whistled through the air. It slapped Sarah's rubber ass cheeks with a sharp crack. A second later a thick switch snapped through the air and slapped her bottom. Any flinching by the girl tugged on both her clit and breasts. The girl waggled her bottom in the air as she rolled the chain through the pulley. The machine adjusted its target and hit with precision.
Angie had a much different predicament. She lay upon her back on a leather bench. Her legs were spread wide apart forming a wide 'V'. The latex cleaved to her taut muscles like a second skin. Straps located six inches apart insure that she remained fused in that position. A machine activated and a switch snapped her vagina. Clear cups were placed over each breast. Black tubes traveled down from the darkness like winding snakes and attached to the tip of the cups. When activated, they formed a powerful vacuum. The girl's breasts engorged with blood and swelled. Meanwhile, a mixture of hormones and drugs flowed up a clear tube, through the butt-plug, and into her rectum.
( link opens in new window )
Across the country at 221 Maple Street, Ogden Massachusetts, Lance Kossel logged into his computer his freshmen college courses completed for the day. He sat upon the bed with his back propped up against the backboard. He looked out the window and scanned the sunny suburban street. He listened for sounds of his parents or siblings. Hearing none, he logged into 'Hellmouth', his favorite website. As he watched the streaming video, he unzipped his jeans and fished out his penis. While stroking the fleshy shaft, his eyes fixed on the titillating video. He dismissed it as pure fiction, but who cared? It was so damn sexy.
Chapter 3 (added: 10/02/2010)
Warm sunbeams streamed through white gauze curtains. The new day wooed Dakota from her slumber. She rolled over and drew up the blankets. She snuggled into her downy pillow and emerged from the twilight.
"Mmnn," arose a quiet mew.
She looked to her right and saw Angie. The girl lifted her head off the bed and snorted in air. The morning light gleamed off her glossy hood. It appeared as if it had been dipped in it. When Angie moved her head about, a flaxen danced about and grazed the back of her wide stainless steel collar.
Dakota scooted up close to the young woman. Her right hand traced over the leather bicep cuffs. The girl tugged at her wrists once again. They were bound to the opposite bicep, pretzel fashion. Dakota's hand glided over the girl's silky soft skin and underneath Angie. She squeezed the girl's breast as if it were a ripe melon. Angie arched her back in response and strained her arms.
When Dakota's finger flicked Angie's nipple, a pained moan escaped the girl's panty gagged mouth. She accessorized her slave girl with a new gold D-rings. Dakota slipped her fingernail through one of thee nipple piercings and gave it a tug. When Angie let out a sharp squeal, bucked her hips, and kicked her legs, Dakota could not help but smile.
A pair of latex panties cleaved to the girl's ass cheeks and creased between them. The leg holes arched high on the hip and hand a wide waistband. From off the bed Dakota retrieved a remote control. At the press of a button hums arose from between the girl's legs. Angie let out a mewing whimper and shook her head 'no'. Dakota pressed another button and more hums came from the girl's ass cheeks.
Angie bent her knees and ground her hips. Wide black leather straps, set six inches apart, squeezed the girl's legs together. Ballet shoes held the girl's toes in a cramping en-point position. The girl grew frantic and rubbed her pelvis against the bed. Dakota tapped another button and activated a clit vibrator. Angie tilted back her head and let out an agonized cry. Several more taps increased the pitch of the vibrators and sent them into a frenzy. When Dakota touched the girl's rubber ass cheek, it seemed to vibrate like an orbital sander.
Dakota grabbed Angie's right bicep and rolled the girl onto her back. She then clipped a pair of dangling gold Y-chains to the D-rings. When the gold chain retracted, the girl's breasts were stretched up until they became pointed and the skin tissue thin.
Angie bent her knees and tried to dig in the heels of her ballet boots. The long heels merely slipped along the silver satin sheets. This drama titillated Dakota's id. She stripped off her lilac silk nightgown and thong. From a play drawer she retrieved a strap-on dildo. This was a serious tool made of heavy leather straps and a double dildo. She eased the inner dildo into her wet vagina and then buckled the straps. Once cinched down tight, a thick log of a dildo jutted out before her.
Using the remote, Dakota lowered a cable from the solid oak canopy overhead. She attached it to Angie's ankles and then retracted it. Angie tried to fight it. She bent her knees and bucked her hips. However, the cable was relentless and drew her ankles high.
Dakota knelt on the bed behind Angie's L-shaped body. She worked aside the rubber crotch panel of Angie's panties. A sausage shaped dildo popped out of the girls dripping wet vagina. Dakota moved close and guided her dildo between Angie's slick vaginal slit. Wrapping her arms around Angie's thighs, she pushed her hips forward. Angie groaned and twisted her upper body. Meaty slaps joined the erotic chorus as each impact jarred Angie's body. "Umph umph umph," Angie snorted. Dakota reached around and between the girl's thighs. Through the rubber panties, she ground in a clit vibrator. At the same time, she tugged on Angie's clit chain.
"That's it you little whore. I'm going to make a bondage slut out of you," Dakota snarled. She slammed her hips into Angie and pounded the girl's rubber covered ass. The girl slid up and down the bed, tugging on her nipple chains. "Give it to me!"
Angie twisted her body and bent her knees. She arched her head back into the bed. A scream exploded from her as if her soul was being ripped out. However, it came from her hood and gag as barely a mew. A few seconds later Dakota trembled. Her vagina quivered and shot powerful pulses through her.
"Very nice," Angie purred. She moved back her hips and let the black log slid out of Angie's body. The thick dildo glistened with Angie's fluids. After removing the dildo from the harness, she again plunged it into Angie's vagina, lodging it deep inside her pelvis. She then drew the rubber panty gusset over the round end cap. For good measure she pressed on the cap with her palm and thrust it deep so that it filled Angie's body.
For good measure, she wrapped a T-chastity strap around Angie's pelvis and between her thighs. Once cinched tight, the crotch strap dug deep, cleaving the girl's rubber sex lips in twain.
Dakota dumped an armful of latex onto the bed. She slapped Angie's bottom. "Let's get you dressed."
Sarah screamed, but the sound never reached her ears. A ball gag and 3 layers of smothering latex absorbed it. She snorted in another breath and cried out again. Her balled hands, sealed inside latex opera gloves, roamed about her body. They searched for some means of escape.
Vibrations seized her sex. She bucked her hips backward and let out a yelp. An ass filling butt-plug joined the fray. She clenched her latex smothered ass cheeks and moved her balled fists to them. Her knuckles traced down the strap to her butt cheeks. It was buried deep between them, tight and implacable. The clit vibrator activated. She jerked up her right knee. Pain sliced up from her left foot. The ballet boots put incredible pressure on her toes. It shot up her leg like a hot knife.
She minced over to a stone wall. In an endless trek, she followed the implacable barrier around the room. Bright flashes of light dazzled her eyes. Her hands shot to her face and moans escaped her hooded face.
A girl was bound on all fours atop a four post bed. She wore lilac lingerie, silky and feminine. A fat ball gag filled her mouth. She looked worriedly about the room. The door opened and a dominatrix stood in the doorway. She stared at the helpless girl, arms crossed and feet spread wide. A thick black cock jutted from her hips. She looked down her nose and waited. The girl cringed and lowered her gaze to the mattress. Only then did the domme enter. She strutted up to the foot of the bed. She crawled up behind the girl. The camera zoomed in on the lilac silk panties cleaving and creasing between her ass cheeks. One could see the taut fabric mold to her vaginal slit. The domme lowered the girl's panties down around her thighs. She then guided her black latex cock between the girl's legs and thrust it into her.
Sarah's dildo roared within her vagina. She crumpled to her knees and spread them wide. She tried to rub her sex with her fists and ground them against her crotch. However, a metal chastity belt, underneath her latex catsuits, denied her access. The dildo began to engorged and lengthen, matching the thrusts of the domme into the girl.
Sarah's heart began to race within her. Her sex ached and body stretched into an orgasmic buildup. She groaned and readied herself for release. A sharp electrical surge stung her sex and all went black.
"Rule number one, you are a slave. You are property a thing to be used by others. Rule number two, you live to please your mistress. Her happiness is your greatest desire. Rule number three, you may only climax with permission. Rule number four, you must keep your gaze lowered at all times. Rule number five, when a domme approaches, you will drop to your knees and moved your wrists behind your back...."
Sarah rolled onto her back and spread her knees wide. When she tried to rub her imprisoned sex, another shock stung her. Orgasmic moans and random scenes flashed. Women sucked, fucked, licked, pumped, slapped, tickled, and caressed one another. Embedded within these flashed scenes were words such as: bondage, pleasure, lust, joy, submission, slavery, fuck toy, and such the like.
The shocks grew worse. Sarah struggled to her knees and assumed the position. As long as she stayed in that position, they faded. If she moved ever so slightly, they leapt to life again until she complied.
The cell door opened flooding the stone room with light. Jazz wore a white latex miniskirt, halter-top, gloves and boots. It matched her snow white locks. She gazed down at the girl waiting in perfect slave position. A week of nonstop orgasm denial and programming began to reshape the girl's mind.
Speaking into a headset, she said, "It's time for your punishment." The first day Sarah scrambled across the room and shook her head. Each day it lessened a little. This day, she waited in perfect submission.
Jazz marched over to the girl. She clipped a leash to Sarah's clit chain. "Rise up to your feet and follow me." It was no easy task, but the painful pull on her clit urged her to continue. She rose up to the tip of her ballet boots and stood. Taking slow, deliberate steps, she followed Jazz out of the cell. The domme led the girl through the maze of passages and doors.
The training room was stark and utilitarian. Devices, worth of a medieval dungeon, were positioned around the room. She led the girl to a cross beam and positioned her before it. "Spread your legs." The girl moved her feet apart a little ways. "Farther!" Sarah spread her legs wide until her inner thighs stretched tight. Jazz knelt down and bound Sarah's ankles to the horizontal wooden beams.
"Bend over." Sarah bent over at the hips. A large wooden beam covered in padded black leather hit her at the hips. When her upper body was parallel to the floor, Jazz clipped a leash to Sarah's collar. She then moved Sarah's arms behind her back and engulfed them in a latex monosleeve. Once the shoulder straps were secure, she shortened the cable at the tip and stretched them up into the air.
Jazz strolled behind the girl. The black latex smothering the girl's round ass cheeks gleamed like a pair of targets. She picked up a whip and let the excess flop to the ground. She hauled her right arm up into the air and brought the tip whistling down. When it snapped on Sarah's right ass cheek, the dildos activated. They vibrated into a berserk frenzy. Sarah's breasts began to heave. The weight attached to her nipple chains began to sway. Blow after blow stung her ass cheeks, thighs, and sex. Heat and pleasure washed up from her sex. It mixed with the pain and sent her senses on overload. The rules began to replay in her mind. "Rule number three, you may only climax with permission." She fought to hold back the orgasm that her body so craved. Her thighs tensed and sex ached. The whip snapped and stung her like a cloud of angry bees. She sucked in short gasps and groaned.
Jazz let the tip of her whip rest on the ground. She waited a second or two. "You may come now slave."
Jazz rubbed Sarah's latex covered crotch. Her splayed fingers stroked the girl's mounds. Sarah drew in shallow, rapid breaths. Her body began to tremble and then quaked. Rapid fire pulses shot up from her crotch. They slammed into her brain and launched her into an altered state. A slight moan escaped the latex layer stretched over her mouth.
Chapter 4 (added: 11/24/2010)
Angie stood at the foot of the bed her arms and legs outstretched. Ropes and leather cuffs drew them out toward the bedposts. She pulled her arms and strained will all her might. The ropes held her limbs tight. She shifted weight and waggled her bottom. With her legs stretched out, all of her weight focused right on the tips of her ballet boots.
( link opens in new window )
A whip whistled through the air. Rubber ass cheeks flashed as they clenched. The knotted leather tips stung her flesh. She threw back her head and a groan escaped the smooth black latex covering her mouth. She snorted in several shallow gasps heaving her bare breasts. Gold nipple shields moved about.
Angie clenched her fists and braced herself. The whip stung her ass cheeks again. All resistance drained out of her. She would do anything to make the pain stop.
Dakota grabbed a fistful of Angie's platinum blonde locks and yanked her head back. "So you little slut," Dakota snarled, "are you going to kneel before me now?"
"Wwmm," she mewed and shook her head.
"That's better," Dakota snapped. She shoved the girl's head forward and found the bottom edge of the hood. "She pealed it up and over Angie's head. The girl's face was damp with sweat and several platinum hairs stuck to her face. Dakota then unbuckled the mask gag and pealed it off. She reached around Angie and held out her hand. "Spit!"
Angie's lips parted and lustrous black satin appeared. She pushed out the damp wad and let it fall into Dakota's hand. The domme tossed the sloppy wet garment aside. She then grabbed Angie's chin and growled, "Who am I?"
"You're my M-M-Mistress," she stammered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"That's right," Dakota snapped and slapped Angie's rubber ass cheeks with both hands. "And you're a what?"
"I'm a slave," the girl sobbed.
Dakota marched over to her dresser and flipped open the lid to the hamper. She thrust in her hand and pulled out two pairs of panties. Hands clenched in rage, she marched back behind Angie.
From off the bed she grabbed a remote control. Mashing a button, she activated the dildos. Over and over she pressed the intensity button. The hums from Angie's ass and pelvis grew louder by the second.
"Oh god," Angie gasped.
Dakota pressed the red and black satin panties to Angie's face. Her hand crushed them against the girl's nose and mouth. Her right arm shot around the girl's hips and reached between her legs. Dakota grabbed the girl's rubber covered sex and squeezed.
"Umnh," Angie mewed and struggled. The musky odor of Dakota sex filled her nostrils. Panic welled up within her like vomit. She thrashed about as horrible tension gripped her sex. The ache between her thighs grew stronger by the second. She sucked in quick gasps Dakota's scent filling her lungs. She cried out and arched her body like a bow. A powerful orgasm shook her like an earthquake.
"You're going to learn to love the smell of my pussy."
Angie sucked in deep gasp through the satin panties. Her thoughts became muddied and vapid. A golden aura settled over her, and she sank down into the restraints.
"That's a good girl," Dakota whispered. "Now open your mouth."
Angie parted her lips. A second later satin fabric poked into her mouth. It grew thicker and pressed down her tongue. When it was all stuffed into her mouth, her cheeks bulged.
Suffocating latex once again stretched around Angie's mouth. It wrapped around her cheeks and then behind her neck. As buckles and straps grew tight, the latex grew taut. Soon it squeezed her face, crushing her bulging cheeks into a normal proportion. Dakota reached around the girl's head and grabbed the strap at the bridge of Angie's nose. She drew it over top of the girl's head, parting her platinum blonde locks. The girl's head jerked as the head strap cinched tight. Her lips became a smooth, unblemished surface.
Something pushed into her right ear canal. It probed deep and filled it. Then another probe filled her other ear. All sound faded into absolute silence.
Arms reached around Angie's neck, once again black latex stretched between a pair of hands. She whimpered and shook her head. The latex wrapped around her face its slick surface melding to her skin. The hood stretched over the top of her head, pausing briefly to pass her ponytail through a hole. It then continued down to her neck. A second hood followed the first, then a third and a fourth. Soon five layers of latex squeezed her face.
The glossy rubber panties arched high over her hips and squeezed tight between her legs. Dakota wrapped a locking T-strap around the girl's hips and drew it tight. She then drew the crotch strap between her legs and yanked. It creased the rubber deep between the girl's ass cheeks. The audible hums grew louder as they became trapped within Angie. The girl danced from foot to foot as the strap dug into her flesh.
The ache of her sex was now a constant companion. How she longed to rub hard between her legs sooth the horrible ache of her sex. It drove her to the point of madness.
Dakota disappeared into the bathroom and returned an hour later. A smart black skirt suit adorned her curvy body. Black nylons sheathed her legs, and closed toe pumps shod her feet. She tilted her head to the side and worked a headset into her right ear. Speaking into the microphone, she said, "We're having a visitor today so you need to be on your best behavior."
Dakota passed a makeup wand over her face. The space-age device applied a perfect layer of makeup to her skin. She leaned forward and examined her juicy red lips in the mirror. Her gaze fell upon the bare breasted girl. "You do know you're a slave now. In particular, I'm training you to be a 'Domestique'."
She primped her hair and put on a pair of gold earrings. "You still hope to somehow escape. I can see it now. You'll wait until I'm asleep and sneak out into the night. Then you will find a cop and have me arrested."
Angie would have lied if she could speak. However, it was her greatest desire. While lying face down in Dakota's bed, she imagined all the ways she might escape. One opportunity was all that she needed.
Dakota strolled over to Angie. She grasped the girl's chin with her right hand and raised it. She stared at the girl's rubber covered face, her platinum blonde locks curled around her neck. "You're my property. I own you. I'm going to train you to be the perfect little chamber slave. Then I'll sell you at a slave auction. That pretty face will be planted between some woman's legs for the rest of your life. I've registered you as an exclusive lesbian slave."
She then strolled over to her dresser. She picked up an iPad and returned to Angie. She pulled up a file. "I've just pulled up your police record. Angie Wilson has convictions for prostitution, embezzlement, intent to defraud, filing a false police report, assaulting an officer, and evading arrest. You're currently listed as a fugitive from justice.
The girl's stomach twisted into a knot. Even if she escaped, the police would arrest her. Her mind reeled at the horror of it.
Dakota strode across the room. Her high heels clacked on the hardwood floor. She entered her slave wardrobe closet. She tapped her chin and shifted to one hip. There were so many choices. She slid several hangers across the rod. Each was perused and rejected. In the end, she opted for a fetish maid costume. The garment was made of glossy black latex and had ruffled white trim, puffy shoulders, and the cutest white apron. It was perfect.
"Unh," Angie grunted. The bed post pressed against her right shoulder as she leaned forward. Her arms drew ever closer behind her back. The armbinder laces grew ever tighter fusing her arms into a single appendage.
At the same time, pain radiated up her legs. These ballet boots seemed worse somehow. Her arches were curved and all her weight rested upon her big toes. She danced about, the light flashing off her glossy black hose. She drew in shallow snorts of air. It was all the crushing corset permitted.
She felt the laces being tied off at long last and then a zipper flap ripped shut. Dakota spun the girl around and primped her white apron. "You look so sweet. I'm sure our guest will find you adorable. She may even want to fuck you."
Dakota strolled over and retrieved a serving tray. She wrapped it around Angie's waist and strapped it tight. Dual chains were secured at the tray's outer perimeter. She stretched up the chains and hooked them to Angie's D-rings. When the tray was released, the weight tugged at her sensitive nipples. The girl grunted and legs wobbled as a heavy tea pot and serving set were placed upon the tray.
"Now go into the next room and wait for me. I'll be there in a minute."
Angie took a tentative step. An electric sting to her left ass cheek urged her to turn to the right. A sting to the right turned her left again. Thus the electric shocks guided her mincing steps toward the bedroom door.
Chapter 5 (added: 01/14/2011)
Katie glanced at her watch and wrinkled her freckled nose. '9:30 am, she's late,' she brooded. Katie crossed her arms and shifted to one hip. Her right foot began to tap out Morse code. If the tapping spelled anything, it would have been 'bitch'.
"I don't have all day."
In fact, she did. As a junior blogger, her minimal readership left her a great deal of 'free time'. It was a sad fact that she hoped to correct.
There is one golden rule in publishing, sex sells. Upon graduating college she promised herself that she would never stoop to such pandering. Hers would be a blog of consideration and culture. It was the type of publication that her professors lauded and argued for with great passion.
Poverty wore away her ideals like a block of ice in a sandstorm. Each compromise achieved few results. In the end, she found herself here.
She stood to her feet again atop a pair of stiletto high heels. They and her nylon sheathed legs were unfamiliar to her limbs. She spent four years in sandals and cut off shorts. She scowled and tugged at the hem of her royal blue miniskirt. It had inched up again threatening to flash any passerby. A thin ribbon of satin kept her from flashing the world. That thong was wedged deep between her butt cheeks and demanded attention once again. She fought off the urge to scream and rip off her clothes. 'I would kill for a pair of fleece wear. 'Why does sexy have to be so uncomfortable?'
High heels was just a start of the compromises she made for the interview. A pair of breasts bulged out a steel blue silk shell. Thanks to youthful firmness and a black satin pushup bra, her breasts formed a perfect pair of globes. She tugged at the hem of her royal blue jacket and crossed her arms. The waist coat was bolero fashion and anything but modest.
All were accommodations to female sexual power. Displaying her body seemed like a betrayal to her mind. Men never had to stoop to such things. They could wear the same old suit for ten years, but women have to buy a new outfit every other week.
Katie looked about to make sure she was unobserved. Seeing no one, she hooked her thumbs underneath the lacy elastic bands of her stockings. The package advertized them as stay-top, but irrational fear insisted that they would slip down to her ankles at any moment. She paused a moment to inspect the lacy thigh bands.
To her right she heard the click-clack of high heels on hardwood flooring. She tugged down her skirt, and her cheeks blushed a shade of bright red. She turned to her right and put on her best smile. Her lips parted into a silent gasp, and her eyes went wide.
The sunlight gleamed off of Angie's latex covered body. The rubber hood, the ballet boots, the latex leggings, and the fetish maid uniform took her breath away. Each pointed step carried the girl toward her. It was then that Katie spotted the tray supports. They were tethered to Angie's nipples. Katie crossed her arms over her breasts and grimaced.
Katie wanted to rush over and help the girl. However, she resisted the urge. She was covering a story. "A true profession remains detached from the story." That's what her professors insisted. It was much harder to maintain in real life than in the classroom.
She tried to take her mind off Angie. She sat down on a love seat and perused a copy of 'Vogue'. However, she stole quick glances now and then. Angie stood at the end of the sofa as though strapped to a board.
Several minutes later Dakota entered the room. Like the domme she expected. Boots clacked on the floor; a catsuit covered her body like a second skin, and a corset compressed her waist. Katie rose to meet the woman. Dakota clasped Katie's hand and wore a warm smile. "It's so good to meet you."
"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." Katie smoothed her skirt underneath her as she sat and crossed her legs. "I'm running a new story in my blog about the adult firm industry and its treatment of women." Katie took out her IPad. She then began to jot down notes. "Now, you are the principle stockholder in Hellmouth productions, correct?"
( link opens in new window )
"Yes that's correct." Dakota cocked her head. Boy-cut black locks framed Katie's adorable face. Her girlish features, sapphire blue eyes, and freckles were adorable. The decision made itself. She had to have her.
Katie prattled on with rapid fire questions. All the while Dakota's attention was fixed on the girl's cupid's bow lips. They were so perfect, glossy red, and succulent. 'Hmm, penis gag or ball-gag,' she mused.
"My sources have reported that some of your girl's are held against their will."
"Nonsense," Dakota laughed and shook her head. "All of my girls sign a waiver of liability and agree to voluntary participate. They can quit at anytime, provided they are willing to pay the fines and penalties for early contract termination."
As Katie jotted down a few notes, Dakota wondered how to market the girl. She was too small for a pony-girl. They required an athletic build and powerful legs. She could turn her into a rubber slave. That would be a waist of material. The girl was far too adorable for that. Katie looked all of 16-years-old although she was 22. 'Domestique', it was perfect! She could sell Angie and Katie as a matched pair. That would double the price. They were all the rage for prosperous woman around the globe.
"...Now my readers want to know about government oversight. Do your performances comply with federal regulations?"
Dakota arose and said, "Why don't you see for yourself? I can give you a guided tour."
Katie set her IPad down on her lap, and a stunned expression appeared on her face. It was far more than she expected. "Okay, I guess. If it won't be too much trouble or take too long. I have a deadline."
"No problem at all." Dakota shrugged. "There are a few conditions though."
"Such as?"
"Well, you have to sign a liability release. That would cover both accidents and serve as a release. It's possible that you might appear in the background for one of my movies. I wouldn't want you to file suit against me."
"Oh, I guess that would be okay." Katie twitched her nose. "Are you filming today?"
"We film every day. We stream new content all the time. Particularly memorable pieces are then sold in movie format for downloading." Dakota handed Katie an iPad. "Just review and sign at the bottom." Katie tried to discern the complex legalese of contractual law, but it was indecipherable. In the end, she signed at the bottom of the form. Dakota smiled.
"There is one more small thing." Dakota averted her gaze and fixed an armrest cover. "Of course, you would have to be properly attired."
Katie glanced down at her blue miniskirt wrapped around her nylon sheathed thighs. A twinge came from the pit of her stomach. "How do you mean?"
"Oh it's just a few little details." Dakota shrugged and tapped her chin. She rose to her feet. "It's more of window dressing. I can show you."
"I guess that would be okay." She watched with interest as Dakota walked over to Angie. She lifted up the girl's black rubber skirt and white apron. A silver chain hung down between the girl's legs and brushed against her inner thighs. To the end Dakota attached a leash.
She glanced up at Angie's face, but a latex hood covered it. In the thin latex, one could see the impression of straps. A gag perhaps, she did her research online and felt well informed about such things. However, she did wonder at what other secrets lay hidden by latex.
If not for the hidden nostril tubes, the girl would have suffocated. It seemed so alien. What would it be like to be enveloped in such material?
Her eyes then darted down to the girl's hips. Quiet hums emanated from the girl's pelvis. Katie chewed her lip and wondered what could be making the sound.
Dakota squatted down before the girl and bound Angie's legs with two sets of cuffs and hobble chains. It hardly seemed necessary. Katie very much doubted that the girl could walk 10 feet unassisted.
"All set." Dakota gave Angie's leash a smart tug. The girl jerked up her knee only to have the hobble chain snap tight and a faint mew escaped the black hood. She danced forward atop her en-point ballet boots and followed the direction of the pull. When they passed by Katie, she cringed. A monosleeve armbinder pressed the girl's arms together behind her back and drew back her shoulders. It looked very painful.
Katie followed the precession feeling a bit awkward. Once as a little girl, her father took her to the circus. Being a child and curious, she snuck into a sideshow, a freak show to be exact. The fat woman, the dog boy, and the rubber man plunged her into a strange world where anything seemed possible. This seemed very much the same.
They passed through several corridors and into a large storage area. Once again Katie was astounded. Gray metal shelves, hundreds of them, were filled with sexual merchandise.
"Our online store has a wide customer base. Some of the merchandise we ship direct from the factory. Other more obscure or valuable merchandise we ship from here." Dakota meandered toward a random shelf. She ripped open the lid and rummaged through the contents. Katie cocked her head and stood to her tiptoes. She tried to see the contents of the box, but it was too dark.
A moment later Dakota turned around holding a pair of leather sacks and cuffs. Katie sucked in a tiny gasp and bit her lower lip. The cuffs were wide, black, and rugged. Sturdy straps and silver rings declared that these cuffs meant business. The leather sacks were a bit of an enigma. She screwed up her face and tried to discern their use.
"Just think of these as strange gloves." Dakota lifted Katie's right arm up between them. She slid up Katie's jacket and blouse sleeves. Katie's gaze was fixed on the leather sack encircling her tight fist. If she had seen Dakota's flushed cheeks and hungry expression, she would have put a stop to it. As it was, tight leather soon squeezed her hands into a pair of fists and refused to release them.
Dakota then wrapped a leather cuff around Katie's wrist. "We ship these around the world. Most couples use them for a little bedroom fun. You know the kind of thing, a little tickle and spank. It's all harmless." The cuff drew tight and then let out a mechanical click. Glove and cuff were now fused to her. After her left hand was similarly bound, Katie held up her hands. It felt so strange not being able to open her hands, reducing her arms to a pair of clubs.
After drawing down Katie's blouse and jacket sleeves, a second set wrapped around her lower bicep just above the elbow. Again she was mystified by their use. "Turn around and I'll give you a little example for your readers." Hands gently pressed on Katie's shoulders and spun her. When Dakota twisted Katie's right wrist up her back, the girl grimaced and wiggled a little. She heard a click, and her right wrist was anchored to her left elbow. She felt her left wrist move up her back. It was anchored to her right elbow leaving her arms pretzel fashion.
Katie wiggled around a bit. With her arms drawn behind her back, her jutting breasts stretched her steel blue silk blouse. "It's a little uncomfortable." She screwed up her face and tugged on her arms.
"Nobody said fashion was supposed to be comfortable." Dakota shrugged and looked away. "If you don't want the tour, I could take them off."
Katie mulled over the situation. To come so far and then quit would leave her readers feeling frustrated. The story needed an ending, not aborted in the middle. She nodded her agreement.
"Very well then," Dakota replied. From the box she retrieved a leather collar. Katie saw hands reaching around her neck. When the leather collar touched her flesh, she shivered a little. The heavy leather ring grew tight around her neck until it seemed that it might choke her. Three snaps came from behind her neck. She twisted her neck and stretched her chin. The collar was welded to her slender neck.
"It is kind of tight," she complained and twisted her neck.
"It supposed to be that way so it doesn't chaff."
"Oh," Katie replied. It made sense she supposed. It was one of those curious details
one only knows by doing. Still, it seemed awful restrictive. She moved her right arm and tugged on her left elbow.
When Dakota squatted down at her feet, Katie observed with rapt curiosity. Thick leather wrapped around her right ankle and then cinched tight. A flush mounting lock, like that of a suitcase, snapped shut. After the other ankle was cuffed, Dakota tapped the girl's right ankle and said, "Feet together." Katie complied and moved her feet. As she watched, a short silver chain was padlocked to each cuff.
"What's that for?" Her tone was like that of a curious little girl. She lifted up her right foot only to have the chain snap tight and the cuff tug at her ankle.
"Shh," Dakota hushed her. The domme's face was flushed and breathing quick. She looped a cuff around Katie's thigh, just above the knee. As it cinched tight, the girl began to fret. Only the V-patch of a thong covered her. Another cuff looped her knee and drew tight. A shorter chain then linked the cuffs together.
"There we go," Dakota said rising to her feet. She crossed her arms and tapped her chin. "Hmm, you need something more. I've got it." She marched over to another box and fished through it.
"This is a part of our bondage jewelry collection." She ripped open a package. "We provide a wide range of fashionable bondage items."
"Bondage jewelry?" Katie asked and cocked her head.
"Yes. Like a diamond choker collar with matching wrist restraints." Dakota worked a semi-circular hair comb back through Katie's boy-cut black locks. The tips were nestled behind her ears. Dakota circled around behind Katie. Thin leather straps dangled from the tips. She looped them around behind Katie's head and buckled them to the collar. Dakota looked down and saw Katie's bottom wrapped in shiny blue satin lustrous and curved with a slight dimple between them. Heat flashed up from between Dakota's legs. The domme thought, 'I'm going to bend you over and fuck that pretty ass of yours with my largest strap-on.'
"This serves as a posture item. You can loop a hook through a hidden slot in the top of the comb." She hooked her finger through a loop at the top of the comb and tugged upward. Katie rose up and straightened her back. "That way the slave has to remain on her feet and upright." She gave Katie a playful smack on her bottom. Katie jerked up her knee and arched her back.
Dakota circled around Katie again and once again scanned the girl. "You look adorable. Now we are ready for the tour." She picked up a black leather leash from the countertop. "Chin up." Katie raised her chin. A second later she felt a tug at her neck.
"We should review a bit of etiquette. We observe strict rules of conduct. Subs, like yourself, must always walk behind a domme. You must keep your head bowed and gaze lowered." She paused a moment. "Do it now." Katie hesitated and then bowed her head. "Good. Now you no longer get to use furniture to sit, unless I give you permission. You are to kneel beside me when I'm sitting."
Katie raised her right leg and felt the restriction of chains. A strange flutter came from the pit of her stomach. "How long do I have to wear these?"
"That's another good point. You will address me as Mistress or Mistress Dakota. Is that clear?"
"Yes Dakot ... I mean Mistress."
Dakota picked up Angie's leash and gave the girls a tug. Katie took a step only to have the chains snap tight and bring it to an abrupt halt. She minced along behind Dakota feeling a bit foolish. To her right she saw Angie. The girl danced along on her tiptoes light flashing off her latex covered body. She realized the significance of it but dismissed it. She was a reporter researching a story not some silly girl looking for a thrill.
The trio approached a heavy steel door. When it opened, light flooded the darkened hallway. Katie felt the hammering of her heart. She came to a halt, but the snap of her leash dragged her into the light.
The brilliant morning light hurt her eyes. When they adjusted, she saw a green compound set in a rectangle of buildings. All kinds of activity took place around her. Racing carriages were drawn by double teams of girls. Sunlight glistened on their naked bodies. The driver cracked her whip on the girl's cherry red ass cheeks. Scores of girls had their heads buried in men's and women's laps sucking them off. However, it was the girl to her right that stole her breath away.
( link opens in new window )
The buxom young blonde appeared to be frozen in mid leap. Her back was arched and limps stretched out behind her. She was golden, like a statue, but living just the same. As they passed, she spotted the hidden frame that held her that way. A stream of water jetted out of her mouth and splashed into a fountain. How, she had no clue. Then she saw the tube snaking up to the girl's ass and disappeared between her cheeks. It couldn't be could it?
They passed around a shrub, and Katie cringed. A girl was bent over a padded cross-member. Her legs were spread wide and arms stretched out before her. A woman clad only in black leather micro-shorts held the girl's hips and dug in her fingernails. She slowly plunged a black rubber cock into the girl's ass. The girl threw back her head and grimaced. The massive rod disappeared between her white ass cheeks. The girl clenched her hands into fists and bit down on a ball gag. Her moans escaped the ball as the domme's hips neared her ass cheeks. The last few inches, she rammed into the girl's ass and jarred her body.
"Are you going to be a good girl now and do as you're told?" The girl nodded and mewed. "Why don't I believe you?" The domme snarled and drew back her hips. She rammed the cock deep into the girl and slapped her flesh. A rhythm began to build. Each impact caused a corresponding grunt and grimace from the girl. For a moment they locked eyes, and Katie felt a shiver down to her soul. The girl hung her head down and gazed at the lawn beneath her.
"I'm sure this is shocking to you. Everyone has hidden desires, fetishes longing to be lived." Dakota came to a halt and turned to face Katie. To Katie's right fleshy slaps and breathy grunts continued. "You may even have a few."
Katie chewed her lower lip and stared at the sidewalk. The seconds passed and the silence became awkward. "Not really. I mean I don't think I do."
Dakota raised an eyebrow and continued to stare.
"Well, I have a few," Katie relented, "but their nothing like this."
"We'll see." She turned about and strode away. A sharp tug on Katie's leash compelled the girl to hurry after her. With her head bowed and eyes downcast, she had a close up view of Dakota's bottom. Black latex appeared to have been spray painted on her ass cheeks and flashed with each undulation.
A strobe light flashed above a red door. "They're filming in this studio." She opened the door and led the girls into the darkness. When her eyes adjusted, she saw a small room. "All slaves have to be gagged from this point unless performing."
Katie chafed at Dakota's liberal use of the word 'Slave'. 'I'm no slave,' she brooded but kept her thoughts to herself. She endured such demeaning to get the story.
The domme opened a cabinet filled with bondage paraphernalia. She perused them for a second and then plucked out a ball gag. She spread the web of straps and held the ball to Katie's lips. "Open."
Katie stared at the ball with misgivings.
"I said, 'Open'!" Katie parted her lips a little. "Wider," Dakota said and pressed the ball to Katie's lips. Katie opened her mouth wide, and Dakota pressed on the ball with her right palm. Katie's jaw began to stretch and it started to ache. She whimpered a little and squeezed her eyes shut. "Mmnn, too ig," she protested. The ball popped into her mouth with a sudden snap. "Ummnn wwnnn," she mewed. Dakota first removed the hair comb and then drew the web of straps around Katie's head. Katie's head jerked as the strap cinched tight. They bit into her tender flesh and drove the ball deep.
"Very few people know how to properly fit and configure a ball gag."
Katie's eyes began to water. She forgot that her arms were bound and tried to touch her face. Her head tilted back as the narrow straps formed a tight muzzle around her face. She stared up at the ceiling as her lips sealed around the outer arc of the ball. When her head was finally released, it bobbed upright, but the straps still gripped her face.
"That's much better." Dakota placed the hair comb back in place. As she strapped it tight, "I never really have much interest in what a slave has to say anyway."
Leash in hand, Dakota led the girls through a second door to the sound stage. The room was cavernous and seemed to swallow them like a large beast. The pair of girls shuffled along behind Dakota until they came to a director's chair.
Dakota tended to Christy first. She forced the girl to kneel and then sit between her feet. Angie's clit chain was then clipped to a ring set in the concrete floor. Dakota pushed down on Angie's neck until the girl's chest pressed against the cement floor. She then clipped the girl's collar to another ring.
Katie's eyes began to adjust to the dark. In it she saw a large T-stand. A hand grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her toward it. She resisted and dug in her heels. It was the same type she saw the girl get fucked upon.
"Move," Dakota snapped and slapped Katie's bottom. Katie snorted in a gasp and arched her back. She minced toward the ominous furnishing.
The leather padded T-bar pressed against the crease of her thighs. She tried to stay upright but Dakota compelled her to bend over. A short chain was attached to the top of a bar. She heard the lock click. When she tried to stand upright, the chain snapped tight. Her legs were pushed apart. She felt a rush of heat wash over her and looked down at her ankles. Her ankle and thigh cuffs were locked to metal struts. They kept her legs spread and ass thrust up in the air.
"I thought you might like a little entertainment while you watch the show."
Katie's eyes went wide when Dakota hiked up her miniskirt. Her bare ass cheeks, divided by a satin thong were exposed for all the world to see. She felt a hand graze her inner thighs and the 'V' patch of her thong stretch. She snorted in quick gasps of air and tugged at her arms. Something nestled against her sex. When the thong returned, it pressed tight against her clitoris.
Her ordeal was not over yet. A large silver hood capped by a metal ball moved between her ass cheeks. Katie mewed in distress, but Dakota pushed the ball into Katie's virgin ass. It sunk deep and disappeared into her ass cleft. Dakota stretched a cable back to Katie's head. She then hooked it to the hair comb. When cinched tight, Katie's head stretched back and froze that way. She had little choice but to stair straight ahead.
Dakota patted Katie's bottom. "There we go. You're all set for the show." Katie watched Dakota stroll over to her chair, take a seat, and cross her thick thighs.
"Mnph," a sudden surge attacked her clit. She snorted in quick gasps as vibrations caused tingles between her thighs. A spotlight began to brighten. A short ways from her she saw a girl clad in black latex upon a red rubber table top.
Chapter 6 (added: 01/14/2011)
A spot light sliced through the darkness and formed a crisp ring. Cameras captured the image from every conceivable angle. Bright red latex covered a fetish table. It was raised high and sturdy. In fact, it appeared one would place a car atop it. However, a girl was all that it supported. Latex covered body glistened like fresh paint. It was everywhere, head, feet, nothing was spared.
Sara awoke with a groan, "Uww." Pains both dull and sharp wrenched her from a drugged stupor. She sniffed in a sharp gasp only to have it cut short. Something squeezed her abdomen and compressed her torso. Aches seemed to radiate from all over her body. A fat, squishy ball filled her mouth. It crushed down her tongue, and her lips formed a tight seal around the outer arc. A muzzle of straps encircled her chin, cheeks, and nose. They dug into her flesh and locked her jaw.
Her situation came back in a rush to her addle mind. She tried to move her arms from behind her back, only to feel them restrained. Likewise, when she drew up her right knee, her right ankle pulled against the left.
From the neck down, she felt squeezed. Something encompassed her. Then there were the twin logs embedded in her. A monster of a dildo filled her vagina as though she were impaled on a fence post. It filled her sex in ways that she never imagine possible and refused to release her thoughts.
Twisting to her left, she gazed down at her right side. Black latex gleamed in the light like fresh pain on a fender. It was as though she had been dipped in it. Even her hands refused to obey her commands. Her eyes traced down the gleaming latex that covered her. Tight latex sacs sealed her hands into a pair of petite fists.
Sara gazed straight above her. Brilliant light beamed down from a spot light. It hurt her eyes and made her look away. The light illuminated her and the red rubber table upon which she lay. However, it created a curtain of darkness through which she could not see.
From out in the darkness came a staccato click of boots. "Mnph," she mewed and twisted onto her left side. Her eyes strained to penetrate the darkness and see her abductor.
Jazz stepped out of the shadows. She stood with her arms crossed and right knee bent. Sara could see the sharp point of Jazz's stiletto boots. Her crimson lips pressed tight in a somber expression and eyes narrowed. Light shimmered off her black latex clad body. It sheathed her shapely legs, cleaved to her curvy hips, and molded to her melon size breasts. A rigid black corset shaped her body into the ideal female form. A wide black collar contrasted her fair features and golden blonde hair.
Jazz crawled up onto the red rubber bed. Her eyes were fixed on Sara like a predator. "Uww," the terrified girl mewed and shook her head. She tried to scoot back but Jazz grabbed her right arm. Jazz jerked Sara forward and pressed her back down to the mattress.
Jazz moved on top of Sara and sat on her bottom. As Sara squirmed, slick latex covered butts slipped against one another. "Umnn," Sara squealed in terror. She twisted and kicked her legs. The light flashed off her latex covered body. From off the bed, Jazz picked up a monosleeve. The girl moved her bound hands about in a desperate bid to resist. Jazz fed the tube up the girl's arms until it reached her armpits. Straps encircled Sara's shoulders and cinched down tight.
Sara snorted in quick gasps of air. "UMMNNN," she screamed in terror. She kicked her bound legs as the armbinder contracted. Her shoulders drew back in a bow as her arms met behind her. She felt the laces tied off and then heard a rip of a zipper flap closing and locking.
Heads moved underneath her bound arms. She sucked in quick gasps with her eyes wide as saucers. She screwed up her face and groaned. The laces of her corset began to further tighten. The steel boned garment squeezed her waist. She bit down on the ball and closed her eyes. It seemed that the corset would pinch her in two. The ends finally met behind her back, and the laces tied off. Her rubber covered body was an hourglass ideal.
Jazz grabbed a handful of Sara's brown locks. Sara's head jerked back, bending her neck. As if in slow motion, she saw black latex stretch open before her face. "Umnn," she mewed and tried to shake her head. The slick latex wrapped around her face, sealing her eyes and covering her mouth. Internal nostril tubes plunged into her nasal passages and made her eyes water. The latex hood encircled her head, had a hole to fit her ponytail through, and slipped down to her neck. She twisted her head, trying somehow to see. This whipped her ponytail around behind her head. The glossy latex adhered to her face like a second skin. A wide leather collar wrapped around her neck, and she heard it lock.
Jazz spun around latex butt slid on latex butt. She released the hobble chain restricting Sara's legs. The freedom, however, was short lived. Jazz clipped a telescopic spreader rod to Sara's ankles and forced them wide apart.
Sara felt Jazz dismount her and felt the mattress move by her side. Above her head, she heard the grind of an electric motor. There was activity at the tip of her monosleeve. When the motor reversed, Sara's arms were drawn up behind her back. Pain radiated from her shoulders as they were twisted in the sockets. Sara scrambled up to her knees, pressing her face into the red rubber mat.
The crotch zipper at the top of her butt began to lower. The zipper moved between her ass cheeks but stopped at her crotch. She waited in dreadful anticipation.
"Umnn," she chirped. The dildo lodged inside her launched into a frenzy. Powerful tingles between her legs stole her breath away. Something round parted her latex covered ass crevice, and a blunt tip pressed against her back hole. The pressure on her sphincter grew stronger by the second. All at once it gave way. An oiled shaft slid into her ass. A groan came from her hooded head. Hands gripped her corset covered sides. The dildo relentlessly plunged into her ass. Sara let out a long moan. Hips met her ass cheeks and pressed up against them. The rod then slid out but came plunging right back into her. Hips smacked her ass and forced a breathy grunt from her nostrils.
( link opens in new window )
Black latex covered bodies flashed. Jazz pumped her hips, smacking Sara's ass. The bound girl moaned in agony as if giving birth. Her hooded face looked about blindly.
A whirring buzz, like that of an electric shaver, grew loud between Sara's legs. Her inner thighs began to quiver. Her heart raced, and the tension within became unbearable. She screamed into her ball gag, but barely a whimper escaped. Her body trembled and sex quivered. Powerful throbs pounded her sex.
Jazz swallowed hard and threw back her head. She closed her eyes as an orgasm seized her. She shuddered and held onto the wide, rubber hips of her latest conquest. The pulsation between her legs ceased and then came again.
The aching throb between her legs began to fade. Jazz opened her eyes and took a cleansing breath. Her waist was constricted by the gleaming corset and caused her to breathe with her upper chest. This caused her mountainous breasts to rise and the light to flash off the glossy black latex.
Prying Sara's butt cheeks apart with both hands, she drew her hips back. The slick black dildo slowly withdrew from Sara's heart-shaped butt crevice. When the tip slipped out, she grabbed a replacement dildo from off the bed. At 8-inches in length, it was a ponderous thing, 1 inch at the tip flaring out to 3-inches at the apex. She squeezed a glob of KY lubricant onto the shaft and slathered it around. Gripping the base with her palm, she pushed with one swift thrust. The shaft plunged deep into Sara's ass, provoking a muffled mew from the girl. The apex pushed into and through the girl's anus. Once down to the end retaining ring, the girl's tight ass sucked it into her.
Jazz grabbed the zipper tab at Sara's rubber covered crotch and drew it up with a rip. She then grabbed the crotch strap that dangled down from the front of the cincher. She drew it up between Sara's legs and clipped it to the back. With a stiff jerk, the narrow strap snapped tight and sank deep between Sara's rubber ass cheeks. The girl let out another muffled moan. Jazz gave the strap one final tug and clipped off the excess.
She grabbed the remote from off the bed and activated the plug. Now a chorus of hums came from the girl's rubber sex. Using both palms, she caressed Sara's rubber ball ass cheeks. Without saying a word, Jazz crawled off the bed and stood to her feet. She disappeared from the light and returned to the shadows.
Stories are copyrighted by the respective authors. Duplication of any kind is prohibited without consent.
18 U.S.C. 2257 Record-Keeping Requirements Compliance Statement